


Phoenix Fire

by GreenEyedFan



Series: Phoenix Fire [1]
Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Constantine (TV) RPF, Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16913949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenEyedFan/pseuds/GreenEyedFan
Summary: You lived for hundreds of thousands of years in relative peace, essentially lost to the world. This is exactly how you wanted it to stay for as long as possible. Running Havens bar in upstate NY was the highlight of the past 500 years, that is until John Constantine saunters into your bar.





	1. Havens

 

Constantine.

John fucking Constantine.

Of course, out of all creatures in the universe, he was the one to find you. After hundreds of thousands of years, you were discovered by the cocky magic brit with a reputation that precedes him. 

For seventy years you’ve run this bar, every ounce of your being channeled into making this your safe haven, hence the name, Havens.

So when John Constantine walked into your bar on a busy Saturday night, you knew that this was the end. Not for you, just for this ever so peaceful time of your life. 

You watched from your booth in the back corner as he made his way towards the bar, cigarette in hand. You could only assume he was flirting with your bartender based on the way Logan's cheeks turned bright pink. Once John had his drink in hand, you sew him ask Logan another question, his answer was a motion towards where you were sitting. 

_Oh lord, here we go,_ you thought to yourself. 

John saunters his way through the patrons as you watch him approach. You pick up your drink and take a big gulp, preparing yourself for what is surely going to be a taxing conversation. John has a reputation as a horny, egotistical, son of a bitch with one hell of a nicotine addiction and a one-way ticket to Hell.

“Oi, you Serenity?” He asks in his thick British accent. 

“I go by many names, that could be one.” You reply, looking up at him as he looms above your table. You relax back into your seat, this will probably be the last relaxation you get for a while. 

“I ain't here to play games, love. Just wanna know if you’re who I’m lookin for.” He says, clearly holding back a temper.

“I'll bite,” you reply, “what do you want? I don't appreciate being sought after by your kind.” 

“British, handsome, or magical?” He asks, a sly smirk making its way onto his face. 

“Take your pick.” You reply as you cross your arms, unamused. 

“Alrighty then lass, if that's how you’re gonna be, I'll get right to it,” He says, flicking his cigarette butt into your unfinished drink, “Are you this Phoenix bit the Angels are so obsessed with?”

The patrons are visibly shaken after what happens next. In a blinding flash of light, you and John are suddenly on the roof. Your hand around his throat, threatening to drop him from the top of your 50-foot building. 

“How do you know who I am?!” You ask in a shout, your voice deep with seething rage. 


	2. The Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Serenity have a little chat.

“Oi! Calm Down, love! I mean you no harm!” John chokes out.

  
“Why should I believe you?” You ask, still filled with rage.

  
“Because I…I need your help!” He pleads.

  
Against your better judgment, you toss John back against the door. You stay where you stand, not wanting to risk anything else until you have more details.

  
“My help with what?” You ask.

  
“Angel trouble. Michael may be a little angry at the moment. Seeing as your kin I was thinking you’d give me a hand and get him to relax a bit.” He explained.

  
“I've been hiding from the magic community for so many years I’ve lost count. Why should I help you? I may be hard to find but I still hear the stories about the great John Constantine” you ask.

  
“Why don't you get to know the real thing, little bird? See if I’m as great as the others say.” He says with a cheeky smirk.

  
“Enough! What do you want from me?” You ask again, patience starting to wear thin.

  
“I just want your help with a little spell is all. You have the magic for me to give Michael a run for his money.” He explains.

  
“Why me?” You ask, “Why not find some other magus or witch and get their help?”

  
"Good question, love. You see," he starts as he stands, placing a fresh cigarette between his lips, “Michael may have let it slip that you’re the only one, besides the other Angels that is, with the juice to pull off this spell. I’d sooner swim in the Thames than ask an Angel for help.”

  
“Damn it Michael,” you huff under your breath, “How did you even find me? I haven’t spoken to my cousins in at least a thousand years.”

  
“Nicked a feather from ‘is office up in Heaven. Little locator spell was all I needed.” He says, flashing another smirk.

  
“Of course, I ask him to hang one to ONE thing and he lets a half rate magician steal it.” You say, inwardly chastising yourself for trusting your cousin with something so important.

  
“Oi Who you callin half rate? I'm the best damned magician in Europe! Does this mean you’ll help a lad out?” He asks again.

  
“Why should I care what Michael does to you? You’re nothing to me.” You state.

  
“Because love, I know where you are, and I still have your feather. If you don't help me, I’m sure it would distract the Angels to learn where their long lost cousin has been hiding out.” He said, with that smirk that you now wish you could rip off his face.

  
“Fuckin Hell,” you sigh, “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you all interested in me continuing this story? If so, i'll increase the chapter length!


End file.
